The Twisted Games
by bookworm0307
Summary: The Hunger Games, with a twist. Characters from Harry Potter, The Mortal Instruments, Doctor Who, Merlin, Twilight, Lord of the Rings, Disney, Pirates of the Caribbean, Sherlock, Inkheart, Skulduggery Pleasant and A Series of Unfortunate Events have been selected to compete in a fight to the death. This is the Hunger Games, with a twist. There can only be one victor.
1. Chapter 1

******I'm not going to prentend that these characters are anything other than those from my favourite books, movies, TV shows etc. I just wanted to combine all the fictional worlds that I love the most, and kill off all but one of my favourite characters. I have tried to have a sort of balance between good and evil characters, otherwise they just wouldn't fight eachother. Please comment if you enjoy the first chapter, it'll encouredge me to post more. **

**Warning: Their can only be one winner to the games, you know that. Don't even pretend that this is going to be a happy story, where all your favourite characters drink tea and talk about evil vilains. No, this is the Hunger Games, with a twist. Two characters from each fictional world, or district, will be put forth into a fight to the death. Their can be only one victor. Prepare for some serious feels. **

The Reaping

_The Magic District_

"Ladies first!" The capitol woman reached into the bowl of names, smiling as she held, in her hands, the fates of the assembled witches and wizards. Fearful faces peered up at her, each of them dreading their name being called out; each of them knowing that it could be them in the arena. "Luna Lovegood!" The crowd gasped, parting to reveal a blonde haired girl in a yellow dress, with a dried beetroot on a chain around her neck. A white haired man, her father, screamed out in pain and horror. Capitol officials had to restrain him, and he reached out to his daughter, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Luna!" A young man wearing a stripy cardigan, which the capitol woman was horrified to accept as a fashion statement, called out to her, craning his head above the crowds.

"It's okay, Neville," Luna smiled, and walked up to the podium, accompanied by two peacekeepers. The capitol woman placed her hand into the second bowl, drawing out the boy's name.

"Harry Potter," The crowd was completely silent as a boy stepped forwards, pushing his dark, messy hair out of his eyes. The woman caught a glance of a lightening shaped scar on the boy's forehead, which she thought might be difficult to cover up for the opening ceremony.

"Harry!" A ginger haired boy shouted, "Harry, I volun-"

"Don't you dare, Ron!" Harry interrupted his best friend, who staggered backwards, holding a bushy haired girl in a tight embrace as she sobbed.

"So, here we are, the two tributes from the Magic District, Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter. Shake hands then." The two friends shook hands grimly, knowing that the other would have to die if they were ever to return home, alive.

_The Shadow Hunter District_

Jace Lightwood was scared, but not for himself. He couldn't bear the thought of losing someone he loved in this horrific excuse for entertainment, and found himself hoping that a stranger would be selected, that a stranger would die, instead of his friends and family. He didn't care that whoever the tributes were, somebody would morn their loss, just that it wouldn't be him mourning. He held Clary's hand tightly, terrified that he was going to lose her again, after he'd only just been released from Sebastian's control.

"Clary Morgenstern," No, not Clary, anyone but Clary. He pulled her tightly against him, kissing her frantically, but the peacekeepers pulled her away as she sobbed. Something broke inside him, and Jace fell to his knees, tears falling silently down his face.

"Alexander Lightwood," The blue eyed boy walked up to the podium, his face an unreadable mask, as it had been for weeks now. He ignored his sister, as she called out to him. He didn't turn around, searching the crowd for that one face, knowing that he'd never be able to continue if he did. Alec din't want to look Jace in the eye, knowing that his _Parabatai _would rather that Clary lived, and not him. He just kept walking, already accepting that he was dead.

By the Angel, Jace thought, I've lost the two people that I love most in the world to this stupid game. He muttered their names under his breath, burying his head in his hands. He didn't even notice when the peacekeepers pulled him savagely to his feet, he was beyond caring.

_District of Time and Space Travel_

This was a strange district, the Peacekeeper thought. Some of the people didn't even look like people, green scaly skin, potato like heads, long, white claws. That man over there was actually wearing a bow tie, what century did he think this was? He was leaning against a large, blue box, with three friends. The Peacekeeper hoped that neither of them would be selected as tributes, they didn't look like they had any chance in the arena, which would make a very boring game. And the Capitol always enjoyed an exciting game.

"Explain it to me again, Doctor. What exactly is going on?"

"The Capitol has, somehow, managed to collide twelve different realities, containing people that are completely fictional to those in the other realities, in the hope that two characters from each reality will compete in a fight to the death. The whole idea is based on the Hunger Games, which, in your reality, is a book written by Suzanne Collins, whereas here, it is a real competition. And we can't return to our own realities until somebody has won the games. Do you understand, Amelia Pond?"

But she didn't have time to answer, because at that moment, the District's escort had called for the attention of the assembled aliens and humans, preparing to select the names of the two tributes.

"The Doctor! River Song!"

"Well, sweetie, this is going to be interesting."

_Vampire District_

_James. _Bella had accepted that he was dead, and now? Well apparently this capitol could do whatever they wanted, even bring back the vampire. Even bring back the vampire after he had been ripped to shreds and burnt to ashes. Bella's human memories were cloudy, but she would never forget that night. And now he was back, to play in the Capitol's horrific tournament. Though she was pretty sure that he would never return; surely there were tributes even stronger than vampires in the games?

The escort now prepared to draw the second name from the bowl, the name of the female tribute from the district. Bella was only a little surprised when her name was called out.

James shook Bella's hand, smiling with glee. In a few weeks, she would be dead, and he would return, triumphant. He had always wanted to see her dead, though he had preferred the prospect of draining her blood first, which was, of course, no longer possible.

_District Camelot_

"Morgana Pendragon!" The high priestess smiled and glided up to the podium. This was going to be too easy. She calmly awaited the name of the second tribute, certain that it was going to be some measly peasant; the city was overrun by them. But it wasn't a peasant, and yet Morgana was sure that she could defeat him anyway. It was, of course, Merlin. And if Morgana had known who he truly was, then she would have been very afraid. Instead, she simply smiled, too filled with self-confidence and the assurance that she would be crowned the victor of this year's games.

Only one of the twenty four tributes would return, and Morgana had decided that it would be her.

_Detective District_

Sherlock hadn't considered that this would be the way they would all discover that he was alive. He hadn't really ever thought about revealing the truth; he was too focused on destroying the last of Moriarty's web of criminals to put much thought into it. But he had to admit, there were better ways for your friend to discover you were actually alive, than finding out that you would be taking part in a fight to the death, in which the chances were that you would never return from. Yes, there were better ways for them to discover that he hadn't died.

Molly had spent too long pretending to grieve for Sherlock, pretending that he was dead. It was almost a relief when his name was read out as a tribute for the district, until she realised that he may never return, that, this time, he really would die. And that sort of broke her heart. Until her name was read out too, and she knew that she would have to die if he was to make it out of this alive. Which she had already accepted would happen; she had no talents when it came to fighting, and would be dead within moments, she was certain of it. But that was okay, better her than, well, anyone, she supposed. Molly wasn't the sort of person to wish bad fortune on others, so she would just have to accept her own bad fortune.

_Disney District_

The assortment of animated Disney characters stretched out in front of Scarlet, like an ocean of bright colours and disproportioned bodies. Most of them looked completely harmless, though there were a few witches, princes, Chinese warriors and pirates that looked like they might be good fighters. Scarlet was the escort for the Disney district, the woman who was about to decide the fate of two unfortunate, (Or fortunate, depending on whether or not they won) citizens.

"Fa Mulan," Scarlet read out, and a dark haired, Chinese girl stepped forwards. The girl bowed her head to her family, before gliding towards the podium. Scarlet was disappointed; in her experience, Disney heroines were almost completely useless. Apparently she had never heard of Mulan, the girl who saved China.

"Captain Hook," Scarlet grinned. This pirate looked like he would provide suitable entertainment for the Capitol.

_Pirate District_

Dixie was horrified to see that most of the people in this district were completely drunk. The age of pirates was, indeed, a long time ago for those living in Panem, and their lifestyle was particularly shocking for those who had lived a sheltered life within the capitol, like Dixie. It took a long time for her to get the attention of the pirates, and even then, they jeered at her after almost every sentence. It took about twenty minutes and seventy peacekeepers to obtain order. Eventually, after much frustration, Dixie cleared her throat and prepared to select the first tribute.

"Elizabeth Swann," The young woman stepped forwards defiantly, shaking off the peacekeepers as they gripped her arms, leading her to the front of the crowd.

"Jack Sparrow,"

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow."

_Middle Earth District_

"King Elessar Telcontar," Though he was known more commonly as Aragorn, this was the name that he was crowned with, and it was therefore the one read out at the reaping. Gondor stood in silence as their King walked through the crowds, afraid that they would never see him again, that they would be Kingless once more. And losing their King in this game, and not on the fields of battle, seemed so pathetic and pointless that many a tear was shed. Of course, they had every hope that he would return, they were confident that he was strong enough to win. They just didn't have quite enough hope to be at ease.

There was a time when Éowyn would have been a little pleased to be given the chance to prove herself, to show that she was more than just a woman, with no ability to fight for her freedom. But those days were long gone, and she no longer sought such adventure. Instead, a deep dread and fear filled her at the sound of her name, and she was certain that this was the end for her. She looked to the King, whose eyes met hers for a moment, and knew that it would be best for her to die, and for him to return alive. She had no doubt that he was capable of defeating the other tributes, and only hoped that she would be dead before she had to face him in battle.

_The Inkworld District_

Doria clasped Meggie's hand tightly, afraid that she might disappear if he were to let go. She didn't seem afraid, but he was scared enough for both of them. He just hoped that it wouldn't be her, anyone but her.

"Meggie Folchart." Doria heard Resa scream out in grief, but he was too numb to feel any pain. Meggie pulled her hand gently from Doria's, and left him standing alone in the crowds.

Farid pushed his way through the crowds, desperately trying to glimpse Meggie's face. When he did, he was proud to see that she was not afraid; at least she was trying not to be. Perhaps they would give her a pile of books in the arena, though he doubted it. Maybe if they did, then she'd have a chance. It didn't seem fair for her to lose her life so soon, after everything that she'd been through.

"Dustfinger."

"No!" Farid called out, but a look from Dustfinger silenced him.

_Please win, Dustfinger, _Farid thought, but instantly felt guilty. If Dustfinger returned, then Meggie would have to die in the arena, and that seemed to be an evil thing to wish on somebody.

_The Sorcerers' District_

Valkyrie Cain stood, arms folded, at the side of the skeleton detective. She couldn't help feeling a little sick with fear, although she made sure that Skulduggery couldn't see it. After all, the odds were certainly in her favour. And even if she did end up in the arena, it wasn't like she was powerless. She was _Darquesse_ for goodness sake, she could protect herself. And even without the power of her true name, Valkyrie was extremely powerful at both elemental magic and necromancy, she just felt sorry for the other tributes if they ended up facing her. It would certainly end badly for them. But she wasn't going to end up in the arena; there were hundreds of other sorcerers here, any one of them could be picked, and it wasn't going to be her.

"Nervous?" Asked Skulduggery.

"You wish."

"Could I have your attention please?" The escort cleared his throat and moved to select a name from the first bowl, "Ladies first, I think. Hmm… Valerie… No, sorry, Valkyrie Cain."

"What?" Valkyrie was genuinely surprised; usually she never got picked for this sort of thing. And, to be honest, what were the chances of them picking _her _as a tribute, out of all the sorcerers in the district? Completely dumbfounded, she allowed herself to be accompanied to the podium to await the name of the second tribute.

"Skulduggery Pleasant."

"What!?" Valkyrie said again; it really was a bad day.

"Well, Valkyrie, I have a feeling that this isn't going to go well."

"Don't be silly, we've survived worse odds than this before."

"I'm not being silly."

"Yes you are."

_The Unfortunate District_

Violet Baudelaire had had an unfortunate life, there was no denying it. And she was pretty sure that it was about to get even more unfortunate. She wasn't wrong. But the realisation that either her, or her brother, would soon be dead, was almost too much to bear.

"I will get us out of this, Claus," She whispered to her brother, "I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so I introdused a lot of characters in the first chapter, which was pretty mental. I'll only include a few different POV in this one, enjoy :)**

Goodbyes

_Harry Potter_

"Harry!" Hermione burst in, followed by Ron and a tearful Ginny. She folded her arms around him in a hug as she tried to supress her sobbing, "Oh, God, how did this happen?"

"I don't know, but it's not looking so good right now."

"But you'll find a way to get out, won't you? You'll find a way to get everyone out, and put a stop to the game, I know you will."

"Of course, Ginny," Harry said, even though he knew that it wasn't true, "Of course I'll get everyone out. And I'll be home again in a few weeks, don't worry." His eyes met Ron's, and Harry knew that his best friend could see through his harmless lies, and see the fear that was about to become too much to bare. After everything Harry had done, he would probably die in the arena. After defeating the most powerful wizard to have ever lived, he would lose his life in the game. And that was almost a certainty, the tragic truth that they had to face. Harry watched the faces of his best friends, his girlfriend, and wished that he could know that he would see them again.

He had faced death before, that wasn't the scary thing. It was just that, this time, his death would achieve nothing apart from bring pain to the people he loved most in the worlds. And that wasn't something that he wanted to do.

"You listen to me, Harry Potter," Said Ginny, the faint trace of tears streaking her freckled face, "You had better make it out of that arena alive, or I am never going to forgive you."

"I tell you what Ginny, when I come back, I'll marry you. That's a promise."

"Then you had better come back." Ginny smiled faintly, and then turned away so that Harry wouldn't see her cry. Goodbye was too difficult, and Hermione led Ginny outside without looking back at Harry. It was easier that way.

"If you die in that arena mate, I don't think she'll ever recover."

"I know."

_Alec Lightwood_

Alexander Lightwood was a Shadowhunter, and he'd spent nearly his entire life training to hunt and destroy demons. Up until a few months ago, hunting demons was his life, and it was expected that he'd die fighting them, just as most Shadowhunters do. But that was before Clary came into their lives and changed everything, for a while he thought that they had changed for the better. But recent events had made him wish that he had never felt happiness, never loved, never discovered that life could be kind. Because all things end, even those whom we love most leave eventually. This was the painful lesson that life had taught Alec, and now he didn't even get to die in battle.

The door opened and the black haired warlock came in. Alec's heart sank; he couldn't say goodbye again.

"You came."

"Of course," Magnus paused for a moment, "I just wanted to tell you to win, whatever it takes. Please, just win."

"Jace would hate me if I won."

"I don't care."

"Well maybe you should have thought about that, before you decided to walk out of my life. I thought you didn't care what happened to me anymore."

"I can't believe you're going to talk about this now…"

"What would you rather we talked about? What about the fact that maybe, this time, you'll get your wish? Because the chances are that I'll never get out of that arena alive, and then you won't have to see me again, ever. And you know what Magnus? I don't think I'd mind so much if I did die, what have I got to live for anyway? If you still loved me, then we would have found a way to make it alright again, if you still loved me, then it wouldn't have mattered."

"Alexander…" Magnus pleaded, but Alec turned away, "If you come back, we can make things okay again, just try to win, please Alec. I can't…" Still Alec didn't turn around, and the warlock made to leave, wishing that it didn't have to be this way, that somehow the last few weeks had just been a bad dream. But it wasn't a dream, the choices they had both made were set in stone and they were running out of time to sort it out. Three minutes left, to be precise. How could things have gone so badly, so quickly?

"Don't go." Alec's voice broke as he turned to look at Magnus, tears that he was determined not to let fall welling up in his eyes. Magnus took his hands gently, his whole body yearning for them to be closer, after weeks of being apart. But there was no time now. It shouldn't have to be like this.

"You have to win, forget about Clary, forget about anyone else. You have to win, Alec," Magnus whispered, looking at those blue eyes so intently, trying to memorise their exact shape and colour, trying to burn that face, so full of life, into his mind forever. "Alec, I should have forgiven you when we still had the time." And then, because they knew that, in the end, there could only be one victor, Alec wrapped his arms around Magnus' neck and kissed him. And it was though all the pain, all the grief, all the fear of the arena was in that kiss, that desperation to spend the time together that they no longer had, the years that they should have had, taken from them in a horrific twist of fate.

They barely heard the peacekeepers come in through the door, telling them their time was up; time was always running out for them, so what difference did it make this time? They pulled Magnus away as they tried to hold onto each other, grief making them wild and desperate, but the peacekeepers were stronger.

"Alec!" Magnus shouted before the peacekeepers could drag him away, "Don't you ever think that I stopped loving you."

Magnus found himself walking away again, but this time, his eyes never left Alec's face.

_Morgana Pendragon_

"Morgana Pendragon," The High Priestess turned and smiled at the sound of her former maid's voice, "I do hope you have fun in the arena."

"This isn't like you, Gwen, coming to gloat."

"Well I might not get another chance."

"I don't think you realise, Gwen, that it is the other tributes that do not stand a chance. What can Merlin do, against me? What can any of them do? Your husband, the King, and all his knights couldn't stop me, and they've tried enough times. And yet here I am. Doesn't that prove to you, dearest Gwen, that I will be crowned victor of this year's games, and that no one can do anything to stop me?"

"Yes, Morgana, but usually you get others to fight your battles for you. Usually you let them die first, so that you don't even have to get your hands dirty."

"Oh, Gwen," Morgana laughed, "You really don't have any idea what I'm capable of, do you?"

"I know just what you're capable of, and I know that you might not be so confident when you face the vampires, so do yourself a favour and make sure you have the right allies before you go into the arena. A good friend never runs out of uses." The Queen smiled and reached for the door, but Morgana stopped her.

"Why did you come her, Gwen?"

"We were friends once, weren't we? I just wanted to wish you luck."

_Dustfinger_

Mortimer Folchart couldn't face the thought of saying goodbye to his daughter, it was too horrible. She knew how much he loved her; neither of them needed their last memories of each other to be desperate, grief stricken farewells. But there was something that he could do, something that might help her, something that he had to try. There was no other way left to protect her.

"Dustfinger?"

"Silvertongue? I thought that you'd want to see your daughter."

"I can't, it's too painful. But there's something that I have to ask of you, it's all I can do for her now. And I'm sorry; I shouldn't ask this of anybody but… You're a father, you know that I'd do anything for her, I'd take her place in the arena if I could, but I can't, and I just have to give her something, some hope."

"You want me to protect her, in any way that I can."

"Yes. Will you do that?"

"Of course, Silvertongue. I will protect your daughter. It's the least I can do, but I suppose, it's the only thing I can do now. I will do everything in my power to make sure that she gets out of this alive; I know how it is to lose someone that I love as much as you love Meggie," Dustfinger thought of Farid, and the way his heart had broken in two as he held his limp body in his arms, he remembered how it had been so easy to give his life in return for the boy's. He did not wish that pain on anyone. "You have my word that she will have my protection. But, I must admit, I'm not much of a fighter. Perhaps you, Bluejay, would do better in the arena than I."

"I do not go by that name anymore, Dustfinger."

"Of course not. It's been good to know you, Mortimer."

"Thank you, Dustfinger. You are a good man."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you are enjoying the story so far, if there are any particular perspectives that you would like me to focus on a bit more, just ask.**

**Thank you for reading :)**

The Jouney to the Capitol

_Bella Swan_

"So, Bella, how have you been? I see that Edward finally had the courage to turn you. Shame, I had been rather looking forward to draining your blood in the arena, but I shall kill you nonetheless."

"You promised me that once before, James."

"Yes, but Edward won't be there to save you this time."

"I won't need him to." Said Bella, defiantly, but James only smiled, his blood red eyes glistening as he took in every detail of her immortal face. She was beautiful, but all vampires were. What was it about her that Edward found so... Appealing? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she was certainly different from anyone else that he'd ever met, and it was more than the fact that he had known he as a human too, more than simply noticing the changes in her features that the venom had brought her.

"What makes you think that you have any chance when you face me in the arena?"

"I'm a newborn still. I'm faster, stronger than you are. And there is no way that I'm going to let you beat me." No, Bella was going to do everything she could to make sure that she came home to her family, that was a promise. She had almost lost them once before, and she was going to make sure that she didn't lose them this time either.

The train moved away from the station and Bella watched the faces of those she loved fade into the distance, trying not to believe that it would be the last time she saw them. She just couldn't afford to think like that.

"Ah, Bella, such determination. You had that when you were human too. And I believe that I have your coven to thank for the destruction of mine?"

"They just kept getting in the way, James. And I'll admit that I did my bit to help destroy them. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I gave Edward the opportunity to kill Victoria, and I was only human at the time. It was very easy in the end. She lost everything, and we lost nothing. Though she certainly tried hard enough to take my life. You all did. Victoria, Laurent, even you failed to kill me."

"Do not torment me, Bella."

"Or what? It's against the rules to attack other tributes before we get into the arena, you can't do anything."

"Yes, but I can make you die slowly when I get the chance, I can promise you that much. I will rip you apart piece by piece, and burn you whilst you're still conscious, whilst you can still feel pain. I have waited a long time to kill you, Bella Swan." Bella froze with a desperate attempt not to show her fear, and her golden eyes locked with James', whilst he stared at her tauntingly. "Now you're scared."

_Clary Fairchild _

The Capitol had prepared a feast of food more magnificent than Clary had ever seen, but she felt too sick to eat, instead simply moving the food around on her plate with a fork, trying to think of something other than the paralysing fear that had been steadily consuming her since the reaping. But it was easier to think of the arena than remembering Jace's face when he had said goodbye to her, knowing that it would be the last time. Except Shadowhunters didn't say goodbye, it was too final.

"Look, Alec, I know we've never exactly gotten along, but-"

"And you think that now's a good time to get to know each other? Do you think that now is a good time to develop fondness for each other? If we're lucky, one of us will get out of this alive. I'd rather not have to worry about protecting someone in the arena if I can help it."

"The chances are that neither of us will survive this, and I don't want to die alone."

"We don't all get to choose when and how we die, Clary." He looked away, gazing wordlessly out onto the countryside that passed by them in a green blur. Clary wondered whether he was thinking of his brother, who had died so young. But it was always hard to tell with Alec.

"Do you think that we have any chance?"

"Perhaps. But there can only be one victor, and we have no idea what we're up against, vampires, sorcerers, warriors, anything. And many of them will be as scared as us, but I can't guarantee that. I doubt that we'll even be able to take our steles into the arena, I don't know what weapons will be available to us, but whatever happens... The two of us won't be making the return journey together." Alec sighed and turned away from Clary. He would be sad to see her die, he had grown to like her recently, but she didn't stand a chance. Neither of them did really. They were already dead, just pretending that they still belonged in the world of the living.

"This sucks."

"Yeah," Alec smiled, "It kind of does."

_Valkyrie Cain_

It wasn't the first time that Valkyrie had been certain that she would die, after all, Skulduggery and her had saved the world countless times, often accepting that they would give their lives in doing so. And that hadn't happened yet. So she wasn't quite as scared as she perhaps should have been, seeing as only one of twenty four tributes would survive the next few weeks. Instead of worrying, which she grown to find a tiresome emotion, Valkyrie tucked into the food, which was considerably better than most dishes served on trains.

Perhaps if Skulduggery wasn't a skeleton, it would be a little easier to tell what he was thinking. Though she doubted it. She could feel him watching her intently and tried to ignore him, just as she was trying to ignore the annoying sense that things might not go so well this time, and that maybe the Capitol's games were the sort of threat that they hadn't come across before, the sort of threat that perhaps even they couldn't avoid. But, if necessary, Darquesse would emerge. And Darquesse was unstoppable, even against Lord Vile. Darquesse wasn't going to allow a measly tournament to thwart her plans of world domination, Valkyrie was certain of that. And once she had decided something, Valkyrie's true self usually got it, at whatever cost. Only recently, in an alternate reality, she had managed to reattach her head after it had been severed from her body, which was pretty cool, if slightly disgusting.

And then there was Skulduggery, who she knew, though it pained her, would do anything to protect her. Her best friend was a little over protective sometimes, in the angry, vengeful sort of way. Nobody who knew Skulduggery dared to mess with the people that he cared about, and if they did then they quickly regretted it. And he was the only person who really understood what it was like to harbour the secret of your true self, an evil, powerful, not-to-be-messed-with-under-any-circumstances identity, which had led to some pretty destructive battles between the two of them, well Darquesse and Lord Vile. Except that Lord Vile had already done all the horrible evil things, and Darquesse was still to do them.

They were going to be fine in the arena.

Several times, Valkyrie tried to start a conversation with her friend, but Skulduggery was reluctant to cooperate. So they sat in silence which, under any other circumstances, would have been comforting. But it just seemed to increase her steadily growing fear.

"So… Any thoughts?"

"I always have lots of thoughts; it's one of the many things that make me so charming, though many of them are not always relevant to the current situation. Were you inquiring about my general intelligent thoughts on different philosophical theories, or were you asking about something a little more specific?"

"You know what I mean, the games."

"Ah, yes." And that was all he said about the matter. Valkyrie hoped that he was busy thinking up some daring escape, or a rebellion against the Capitol, but she couldn't fool herself. He was worried about her, he always was.

_River Song_

"So, Sweetie, where are we exactly? Have we done Manhattan yet?"

"Manhattan, what happens in Manhattan?"

"Spoilers," River sighed, "You can't die here, Doctor."

"Why shouldn't I? Technically, you can't die yet either, but the Capitol have most likely thought of a way around it, they must need a paradox machine just to support the idea of the game. What's to say that I can't die here either?"

"Because…" River turned away, _never let him see the damage, _trying to think of a Universe without the Doctor in it. She couldn't. Neither could she shake the words from her head _"You can't die yet either," _so he'd seen her death. That didn't scare her, she had given the rest of regenerations to him and had accepted mortality long ago, but how long ago had he seen her die? Long enough ago that he'd barely known her? Long enough ago that she was a stranger? There were worse things than death for River Song.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Don't look at me like that River; our timelines are the wrong way round, we both know things about each other's futures that we wish we didn't. The problem now though, is that the chance of either of us having a future beyond this is slowly depleting."

"You can't just give up!"

"I'm not giving up, River," He looked tired, and old, his childish expression gone from his face. She reached out her hand to him, but he moved away. "If you have any ideas then I would love to hear them. But not now, I have a terrible feeling that nothing we say is private." He wasn't wrong; the Capitol had done their research about the various tributes, and were thoroughly prepared for any trouble. They weren't going to let these new, exciting games ruin their carefully structured government, even if it did make a good news story. Listening into the conversation of potential trouble makers was just a safety precaution, and one could never be too careful with characters such as Skulduggery Pleasant and the Doctor.

"Well, sweetie, if time is running out for us, I don't see why we should waist our time moaning about it. And, for once, we haven't got my parents hanging around, warning me about men like you."

"And why would they need to warn you, Dr Song?"

"Why do you think?" She grabbed his collar and pulled him towards her, and to her surprise, he kissed her, instead of the other way around. River smiled and pressed himself closer against him, trying not to think about how long they might have left. Weeks maybe? It was too horrible to think about. She smiled as he ran his hands through her mass of blonde curls, perhaps her parents were right to worry about men like him. Though they should probably be more worried about girls like her.

"It's late, River," The Doctor whispered in her ear.

"I know. Are you tired?"

"No."

"Good."

_Sherlock Holmes_

Sherlock had been watching Molly intently for the past few hours as the time passed by tediously and uneventfully. She had made an effort to look nice this morning, but she hadn't touched up her make up since then, and her lipstick was faded, her mascara smudged from constantly wiping her teary eyes, hence the black mark on the back of her hand. It had been two years, seven months and nineteen days since they had last seen each other, and he wasn't the only one who had changed. The way that she looked him in the eye when she spoke to him, the way she challenged him when he said something that she didn't agree with, even the way she sat was different. No longer did she seem to want to simply fade into the background, instead she made an effort to make sure that people noticed her, engaging in conversation with their "mentor," asking Sherlock questions, even when she knew that he was reluctant to answer. Perhaps it was her promotion (She had been doing night shifts at the hospital, and still had her security card in her pocket, head of the department now) or her new boyfriend (Who else would buy her a locket like that?) or neither. Molly had seemed to have developed a way of shielding her emotions when she spoke to Sherlock, a characteristic that she had certainly not had before. She had even gone to the toilets to cry after they left the city, determined not to do so in front of him.

At least she had changed for the better.

He had been planning to return to London soon, anyway. Sherlock had dismantled most of Moriarty's web, and had expected to hunt down the last few within a few months. Then he just had to figure out what to do when he came home. Several times he had almost chickened out, deciding that it would be easier to just move on, and leave that life behind him.

But he missed London, he missed Baker Street. He missed it in a way that he never thought he would, a sort of pathetic pining for something he knew he couldn't have. Sherlock hadn't expected that it would be that difficult to leave it all behind.

But it was safer that way, for everyone.

Sherlock hadn't asked about life back in London, and Molly hadn't told him. He was certain that she was taunting him with the information, daring him to break and show how much he wished the last couple of years hadn't happened. He didn't ask, all evening they sat, barely speaking, as their escort and mentors spoke about the games, and surviving them.

Sherlock supposed that this time, faking his death probably wouldn't work.

_Merlin_

For a while, all that Merlin could think about was how different his surroundings were from the world that he had grown up, and lived, in. He should have fallen asleep instantly on the insanely comfortable bed, but he couldn't. His mind kept racing over the last day, the reaping, his name, Arthur wishing him luck in the awkward, "come on Merlin, you won't last five minutes" way that he did, watching the castle disappear into the background faster than he thought was possible, and then being forced to be in the same room with that _witch _Morgana and not being able to kill her. It had been exhausting, and all he wanted was to slip into the embrace that sleep offered.

His brain had other ideas.

Realistically, he should be able to win the games. However, there was one problem. Most of the other tributes weren't evil, or plotting to take the thrown of Camelot. Most of them were just scared of the inevitable odds that faced them in the arena, and he couldn't kill them, not even to save his own life. Some of them were just _children, _and pretty defenceless ones at that. He would kill Morgana though, he was determined that he would be the one to take her life.

And even if Merlin did win, he would have to use magic to do so. And all of Camelot would know that he was a sorcerer, and would probably execute him as soon as he arrived home.

Merlin groaned and turned over, his mind was just going round and round in circles; he was never going to get to sleep, no matter how comfortable the bed was.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, the journey continues, and our tributes are growing ever closer to the Capitol. But surely they aren't going to just accept their fate? Surely the greatest heroes in fiction aren't going to just take part in the games? And the Capitol know the danger they're in. The sytem of their carefully planned games is on a knife edge, and it wouldn't take much to topple it.**

**Oh, and by the way, I already know who will win the games.**

The Journey Continues

"So what sort of weapons have you used?"

"I don't use weapons. I usually find that bloodshed is the wrong way to solve a problem." The Doctor said, without looking at him. He wasn't trying to hide his contempt and disgust; after all, he'd always believed that human beings were essentially good. Time and greed had changed that. _The Hunger Games. _What sort of twisted civilisation would consider it to be entertainment? The same civilisation that accepted the Game Station, that enjoyed watching their least favourite contestants suffer and die. Humans had such a great capacity for causing others pain. It was sad, because they also had such a great capacity for love and happiness, bravery and sacrifice, friendship and protection. They were an amazing species, but they would never stop thinking of ways to kill a little of their humanity. The Hunger Games was just another blind torture, planned by those in power and accepted by the masses.

"Now, we both know that isn't true."

"You know nothing about me. Don't even pretend that you do." Fir Wellwood flinched away from the Timelord, he'd heard enough stories to be wary. _"I don't use weapons." _Now _that_ was a lie. Maybe he didn't like the _idea _of using weapons, maybe he liked to think of himself as some sort of angel, but he had done his fair share of fighting, and he had certainly used a few different weapons in his time. He was just fooling himself, trying to forget that he wasn't the hero everyone thought he was. Fir had met enough victors to know the face of somebody that has done terrible things, things they had to do, but terrible nonetheless.

"I'll tell you what, Wellwood. There's no way that I'm letting these games go ahead. I won't let you continue to do this, it will stop. And you can tell all your friends in the Capitol that it's all over, and they are really going to wish that I had never been involved." Yes, Fir had been aware that this problem might arise. He had, of course, voiced his concerns to his peers, but had known better to take them further than that. After all, the Capitol had made precautions, and the movements of their tributes were far from private, they knew the sorts of people that were fast approaching their city. Skulduggery Pleasant, the Skeleton detective, from what Fir had read of his file, he was not the sort of person anyone would want as his enemy, and was fiercely loyal to those he cared about. And with his partner, Valkyrie Cain, also competing in the games, they would have to be wary of his anger. Clarissa Morgenstern, or Clary Fairchild as she preferred to be known, was headstrong, brave and, so they said, the blood of angels ran in her veins, more so than in other Shadowhunters. They owed the victory of the Mortal war to her, supposedly.

And the Doctor. Fir wondered how many civilisations he had watched burn, how many he had watched die, how many had not been granted mercy. There was something in the man's eyes, a quiet grief and fury that came only from years of trying to spare others pain, and in doing so building another burden to carry. But his hero façade was just that, a façade, and Fir couldn't help wondering how much it would take to break the Doctor's carefully constructed disguise.

"Is that a threat Doctor? Will I have to warn the Capitol that you have intentions to bring us down? Will we have a rebellion on our hands?"

"Oh yes, you certainly will have a rebellion on your hands, Wellwood, mark my words."

_Luna Lovegood_

Harry looked sad, in the distant, dreamy way that he had during his sixth year at Hogwarts, after his Godfather had died, and as the fear of Lord Voldemort started to eat away at him. Grief and fear had consumed him so completely that all life seemed to have drained from his eyes. Luna wasn't the sort of person to force happiness on those that had deliberately shut it away, to admire it from time to time but never fully free it again. And Harry looked like the sort of person that had locked away his happiness, for the time being at least.

Luna stared absentmindedly out of the window, moving her breakfast around her plate with her fork. She couldn't help but think of the many train journeys to school, the mountains of sweets, the English countryside fling past in a blur, the day spent talking with friends after the whole summer apart, and the Deatheaters on the carriage, tearing her from the other children in a few moments of fear and confusion. Luna shuddered; some memories were best left forgotten.

They had been told briefly about some of the other tributes, though they would most likely get to know them best during training. The list included Shadowhunters (or Nephilim), time travelling aliens, vampires, other wizards and sorcerers, and several Muggles that were apparently perfectly capable fighters. Luna hoped that it wouldn't come to a fight. She had only finished school a year ago, for goodness sake; they couldn't expect her to seriously take part in the games, that would be sick.

But, if they did make her fight, she wasn't exactly without experience. Luna had taken part in her fair share of battle during the second wizarding war, and had grown somewhat unafraid of death. She had been thinking more and more about the Battle of Hogwarts, and though Harry never spoke of it, she knew that he had gone to Voldemort. She knew that he had been prepared to die for all of them, though she wasn't entirely sure of how he survived, only that some things happen for a reason. And that gave her bravery, knowing that her friend had so readily been prepared to face death, as well as guilt whenever fear of dying in the games gripped her.

A few minutes passed. Harry didn't look at her, and Luna didn't press conversation. Only when she realised that tears were beginning to fill his green eyes did she speak to him.

"Do you think that we're going to die, Harry?"

"What?" He said, looking somewhat dazed, "No, of course not. No, Luna, we're not going to die." But his voice sounded weary, and the harmless lie was difficult to believe. Luna tried though, even if it was just to reassure him that she still had faith in the Boy Who Lived.

It was cruel, Luna thought, to present them with such dreadful odds, and yet to give them enough hope that they believed that they actually stood a chance. There must have been something seriously wrong with all of them, and she suspected that the Nargles were probably behind it.

"Good morning Harry, Luna," Fannia, the Capitol woman floated into the room, smiling over enthusiastically, "I hope you slept well, I know that I certainly did. Oh, Harry, do make sure that you eat some breakfast, I assure you that the Capitol's cuisine is really quite exquisite."

"What difference does it make to you whether I eat or not?"

"It's important to make sure that you don't miss meals, or you can become quite ill."

"And I'm sure that my welfare is one of your top priorities, Fannia." Something passed across Fannia's face, fear, anxiety, shame? But it was gone so quickly that Luna couldn't see for certain. Harry ran his hands through his scruffy hair and fixed his green eyes on the Capitol woman's purple ones. "Now, here's the thing. I have a fiancée at home, whom I love. I have friends that I have known and stood beside for the best and most dangerous years of my life. There are people that are more that family, people that I have been willing to lay down my life to protect; people that I know would do the same for me. There are memories of good times, of pain and tears, and a thousand futures that we can hope for. There was a war, and battles fought with my dearest friends. And fair enough, you've probably already worked out that I will do anything to return to them," He glanced at Luna, "But she is one of those friends, and there is no way that I am going home without her."

"There can only be one victor, Harry Potter."

"Yeah, and nobody survives the killing curse. I'm not going to let a technicality like that get in my way."

_Meggie Folchart_

Meggie searched the train for a book, but there were none. She tried telling herself that maybe people didn't see the value of words and stories in Panem, though it pained her to consider it, and yet she couldn't fool herself. They knew what she could do, and they didn't want her disappearing into the pages of a book. And if her voice was the only weapon she had, and she had no way to use it, then what chance did she have? What chance did she have at all?

Meggie had read a few Dystopia novels before she came to the Inkworld, and had found that they usually followed a similar pattern:

And if every world was a story, then this one was about to begin. And that meant that everything was about to change, one way or another, and Meggie had a feeling that she would be stuck right in the middle of it.

_Valkyrie Cain_

They had taken her ring. Her _necromancer ring. _What right did they have to steal it? It was _hers. _It wasn't like they could use it or anything, and neither was she powerless without it. So what was the point? Why would they want a ring containing her necromancer magic? Unless…

"Oh no…" Valkyrie muttered, and dashed out of her room.

_The Capitol_

"Nothing can go wrong here. The slightest nudge could send us toppling to our doom."

"I am aware of this."

"Then why are we going through with it? Surely our well organised system is worth more than a little entertainment?"

"This has never been about entertainment; this is far bigger than that."

"Then what's going on?"

"You will find out, soon enough," the President smiled.


End file.
